9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ43Ju1DQZyW
After two failed math tests, a 5-hour house party gig, a stressful psychology class, and three hours of sleep I was about ready to cry and or sleep.
“Oh cmon, this day could not get any worse.” I groan as the rain starts to fall from the sky. And I’m walking home, soaking to the bone and my bones trembling from the cold. How smart, I forgot a jacket as well. Well isn’t this just nice?
Thunder pounds from above and I throw my hands up in exasperation.
“What the hell??” I shout at the sky, feeling too overwhelmed and just utterly exhausted. I haven’t seen a rook in over a week because I’ve been so busy with Arwen and school. It’s been fun but so much more work than I was expecting. And now all I really need is a nap, a very long one.
I get to the apartment complex, shivering and dripping wet. My mascara had long abandoned my eyes and streaked down my cheeks. I look like a hot mess with my plastered hair stuck to my face. This is not how I want to start my evening.
“Crap crap crap” I chant as I get my key chain caught on the corner of the railing and go tumbling down a couple of steps and sprawl on the floor.
I take everything back, this day can get worse. Might as well enjoy it I suppose. My back groans in pain but I let out a half-delirious chuckle.
“Oh god, I really am losing it.” I press a hand to my forehead and a shadow lurks in front of me. I would recognize the sound of those footsteps anywhere.
“That was rather amusing.” My lips tighten as I come face to face with Othello. He looks different, ragged, and burnt out. Slight scruff and hollow eyes, he doesn’t look ok. Whatever Billie, it doesn’t matter to you.
“Glad I could humor you,” I say still sour from how he ditched me but I won’t let him see. Actually at this point right now I couldn’t care less. I just can’t bring myself to anymore. At least not today. Othello just kinda stares at me, until he offers a hand and I remember I’m on the ground.
“Are you alright?” He inquires and I nod knowing I must look a mess with my smeared makeup and god only knows what else.
“Perfectly. Although I couldn’t say the same for you. Have you gotten any sleep?” I don’t mean to sound so concerned but he really does look like shit. His brows rise and he rubs the back of his neck but shoves his hand in his pocket.
“Doesn’t matter.” He grumbles and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Exactly what I thought, he won’t ever change even if he shows hints of himself he won’t ever stop. And I won’t put myself through that. Not again. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be nice.
“Take care of yourself, Othello.” The words sound more like a goodbye and I realize they’re true. I do want him to be ok but I’m not willing to take on more pain than I can carry. I already have enough. I start to walk away but for some reason, I stop. He looks so broken. Before I can change my mind I swiftly march toward him and pull him into a hug.
Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this? Othello freezes and I remember I’m soaking wet and going to move away but his arms encircle me in an iron grip almost crushing me as he burrows his face in my neck. Othello let’s take a breath as if this is all he needed. Someone to show him kindness. We break away and he clears his throat, looking anywhere but at me. I know he’s going to close up again so I prepare myself for the oncoming insult but he doesn’t say anything. And that’s when I noticed he had a bruise. Another fight. Fresh from the looks of it.
I don’t bother saying anything as I lead him to my apartment. Trying not to think about how messy it is. At this point, I don’t think he really cares.
“Sit.” I moved to the stool and he obliges without hesitation, pulling off his shirt. A gasp gets caught in my throat.
So many bruises, cuts, and scrapes crusted over. It’s a horrible sight to look at.
“As you can see I haven’t won many.” He grumbles and I can only stare but shake my head.
“Why do you do this?” I ask knowing he won’t answer as I get the kit out. Othello looks at his busted knuckles and shrugs.
“Cause I feel like I need to punish myself, so I let other people do it for me.” I blink not expecting him to actually tell me. Slowly I nod and wipe off the crusty blood and he grimaces.
“I know you have no good reason to forgive me Billie, I just don’t know how to uh, like show my emotions or open up.” I only nod knowing he needs to talk. And I’ll let him talk as long as he needs.
“I just don’t want to hurt you. But that’s all I keep doing. I just hurt you over and over even though that’s the last thing I want to do.” I try to stop my eyes from burning and my heart from thrumming in my chest as I wash and bandage his cuts.
“I know I’ve apologized and done the same thing again but I just want you to know how sorry I am.” Is this going to solve anything? Does sony ever fix anything? If he doesn’t change then his words are meaningless.
“I'm not asking you to forgive me Billie or for another chance to be good friends I guess. I know I was wrong for yelling at you and then ditching. I’m sorry.” Othello looks at me helplessly and so raw and open that I can’t help but nod again. Is he just going to hurt me again and again and again? Then apologize over and over again and I’ll keep forgiving him. I can’t enter a cycle like that again and come out still breathing.
“Please say something.” He says and I swallow not knowing how to respond or what to even do. Nothing comes to mind but what if?
“Why’d you leave?” It’s not what I wanted to say but it came out and I couldn’t stop it. Neither of us has our masks on and it’s terrifying. To be so open and raw. I hate it. Othello sighs and glances at the ceiling and I know this is very hard for him. I’m not sure what has gotten into him today or why he’s even back in my apartment but I don’t expect him to open up overnight.
“I don’t really know, I just felt like I was going to hurt you more by staying.” I think there is more to that than what he’s saying.
“Or did you leave because you felt if I got too close I’d see you and all your broken bits then abandon you?” There are abandonment issues. Othello's eyes widen and yet he doesn’t look very surprised.
“Right, a psychology major.” He grumbles and I smile slightly, tilting his chin up to wipe the crusted blood off his lip. we’re so close, inches apart, and yet I still feel as if he’s miles away. Othello's breath catches in his throat as I gently spread some ointment on his lip. I can’t help but get lost in those ocean eyes, dark and foreboding. So open and raw.
Every action and every word he does is ingrained in my mind and I don’t know how to get them out. I just have this feeling he’s going to hurt me. Intentionally or not.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” I murmur as I back away, pulling my mask back up. I don’t think I can do this again and keep falling every time but never had anyone catch me. It hurts. Othello's lips tighten but he nods.
“That’s it?” His tone is incredulous, my brows furrow as his gaze darkens.
“What else is there to say?” Othello lets out a merciless chuckle and stands up towering over me. I hate this. I can't do this.
“That you forgive me and want to start over. I did everything Billie. What more do you need?” Oh hell no. I stare at him and this whole day just crashes onto my shoulders. I can’t do this anymore. It’s all too much, everything is too loud and I can’t control any of it. Delirious broken laughter leaves my lips with such force I brace my hands on my knees.
“You…you after everything you said? You say sorry then do it again. The constant mood changes are killing me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do it.” There I said it and I trail off in chuckles feeling tears stream down my face. Othello's face turns stony.
“Can’t you see I’m trying?!” He yells, shaking my shoulders and for a split second the world goes silent. I don’t feel his fingers digging into my skin, or hear the ringing in my ears. It’s quiet.
Until a year's worth of pent-up rage and pain spill and I shove him away, face bright with fury.
“And it’s not enough! You can’t keep doing this to Othello. Reeling me in and then tossing me away.”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I scream as he goes to grab me but I step away, heaving and dizzy with rage.
“I wish I never met you. I’m so sick of trying to fix everyone. I’ve tried and tried but you just pushed me away and I’m done. So fucking done Othello. Maybe you were right, maybe I am a fake bitch but so what?? You know nothing about me.” By this time I’m out of breath and both of us are red-faced and clenching our fists thrusting verbal daggers into each other's hearts.
“I don’t know anything, huh? How about that dead brother you keep clinging to? Or how you say you have so much pain yet never tell anyone anything! It’s your fault, your fault you never tell me anything. I never asked you to try.” My fault, my fault, isn’t it always? Tears are streaming down my face and I’ve never felt this angry. Never felt like punching someone or screaming more in my life.
“He’s not dead!” I holler, my voice ragged and choked with tears. Othello doesn’t even pay attention lost in his own anger.
“You think everything's about you. You’re responsible, and it’s not. This is why you’re alone, and always going to be. Now I’m beginning to understand why your brother tried to commit.” The world stops. The breath freezes in my lungs, and Othello's eyes flash with regret the instant the words leave his lips. I don’t care. I don’t care.
“Get out.” The words are clipper and Othello opens his mouth but I won’t hear it. Not anymore. That was it, the last chance.
“Get the fuck out!!” I scream, choking on my tears. My bones shake and I can’t seem to figure out how to breathe correctly. Why can’t I breathe?
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM8k0WxKMlf